


The Cure

by thehoneybeecastielfollows



Series: The Cure [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cas/Reader angst, Cas/Reader fluff, Cas/You angst, Cas/You fluff, Castiel/Reader angst, Castiel/Reader fluff, Castiel/You - Freeform, Castiel/You angst, Castiel/You fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, cas/you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-09-06 02:26:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehoneybeecastielfollows/pseuds/thehoneybeecastielfollows
Summary: The reader is a healer witch, caught in a pickle between Sam, Dean, and her sister, Rowena, after a misunderstanding takes place. She finds herself bunking with the Winchester brothers, and comes across a certain lonely angel, that seems to be in the same place as her. But, will her mistaken reputation ruin everything between them, or will their love blossom by the virtue of their incompatible personalities?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was, and still am, going through a Rowena phase so... Enjoy!

“Hmm…” Your fingers traced the man’s forehead, examining each and every scratch, bump, and bruise, to better determine what exactly needed healing. “Ah, there seems to be a cancer cell forming…” You paused, in search of the location of the cancer cell, “in the prefrontal cortex of your brain. Were you aware?”

The man, sweating with a furrowed brow, shook his head. “Uh, no, ma'am.” He stuttered as the pads of your fingers caressed his temples.

“It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t have to be afraid of me. And please, call me Y/N.” You applied pressure to his temples and closed your eyes, softly whispering the Latin spell repeatedly, picturing the cells’ elimination with every word you spoke.

Once the cell was destroyed, your eyes opened and your hands dropped from the sides of his head. You smiled from your position behind the man and softly patted his shoulder. “All done.” Your voice spread cheer and joy, the pure smoothness of it causing the man to smile.

“That’s it?” He questioned, hesitantly exhaling as if a fifty-pound weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“That’s it.” You confirmed as the man stood from the chair he had sat in for only about five minutes through the entire process.

“T-thank you.” He grabbed your hand in a handshake and shook it roughly, causing you to giggle and smile. The happiness of the patient, in the end, was the entire reason you fell - more like jumped - into this line of work. It always made you feel like your life was complete, until the next patient and you would start all over again. But you loved it.

“You’re very welcome. Stay safe out there.” You offered him a sweet smile and a nod, hoping to warm his heart at the very beginning of his night.

“I will.” He smiled and left your small shop, the bell above the door jingling as he stepped into the cool weather outside.

You smiled and turned on your heel to head behind the counter, prepared to clean up from the day; closing time was approaching rapidly. You looked around your small Apothecary shop, filled with herbs, essences, and unique kinds of honey, teas, coffee, and even a few books. The cozy lounge area to the side always had someone placed in its cushioned seats with either tea or coffee placed on the glass coffee table. A soft rug was laid out under the coffee table, and the table had a few indistinct coasters laid out across the table. It was the only place you ever wanted to be.

The dark shop did not have too much of a mess from that day, but there was a jar of sage laid out next to a bottle of flavored honey with a label wrapped around it that had the words ‘Blueberry Patch’ typed in Harlow Solid Italic font, as well as a recently refilled bottle of cedarwood scented essential oil.

You cleaned up the mess, that was very little compared to some other days, and breathed in the scent of your wonderful little shop before taking your keys off the hook and heading over to the door of the shop. You opened the door, the winter breeze catching your sweater and blowing it into your skin. Goosebumps began to form on your skin as you scolded yourself for not bringing the extra jacket you had been contemplating on bringing that morning. 

You sighed deeply and locked the door, making your way to the alley you had to walk down to get to your apartment. You knew it wasn’t safe, but it was the only way to get home, and often times you would get home late at night after a long day of healing. 

You were halfway down the alley when a gust of wind blew your hair into your face. You shivered and wrapped your arms around your body to give you more body heat, figuring it wouldn’t take that much longer to get to your apartment. You took a few more steps before someone’s loud, penetrating voice echoed through the alleyway, causing you to halt.

“Hey!” A voice yelled, and a gunshot quickly followed the howl, not hurting you, but hurting the asphalt.

You turned around slowly, only seeing the dark figure of a man with a pistol. You put your hands up, attempting to avoid conflict as the man holding the gun towards you walked forward, revealing a taller man who also had a pistol. You flicked your eyes between the two and sighed, shoulders slumping forward as you awaited what was to come.

“Hello, boys,” A female, with a strong Scottish accent, said behind you and you immediately knew who it was. “Y/N.” She added, recognizing your form right off the bat.

“Rowena, how-"An abrupt foot slamming onto the asphalt startled you, pausing your sentence as you looked back over to the two men, both guns now pointed at you.

"How do you know her?” The taller man asked Rowena, but never gave her time to respond. “And how do you know her?” He redirected his gaze towards you and you groaned.

“Childhood friends,” Rowena replied before you could and you silently thanked her.

“Well, she’s coming with us, You can go do… whatever the hell you do.” The shorter man grabbed your shoulder before you could oppose and you sighed.

“Can I, at least, grab a few things?” You asked before he began to drag you to his car.

“No.” Before you knew it, you were sitting in a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, and your sister, Rowena, was probably heading back to your niece, Crowley.

-

The two men pulled up to a dark building that you couldn’t quite make out, considering it was dark outside and you were probably hours away from your apartment, undoubtedly you were slightly out of whack. Your life had practically been taken away from you within the course of a few minutes, therefore your mind was spinning in all different directions as you stepped out of the car and cautiously trudged over to the entrance of the building.

Before you could walk far enough, someone grabbed your wrist from behind and placed cold objects around your wrists. Handcuffs. You groaned but went with it, hoping that if you went with the flow, you would be able to go home sooner.

“You don’t know where we are, do you?” The taller of the two attempted to clarify and you shook your head, not wanting to speak to your kidnappers for longer than you needed to. “Good.” He put a black bag over your head to block your vision and led you into the building and down a few stairs, probably a few hallways, and a couple turns before opening another door and - it sounded like - dragging shelves with wheels across the floor. He pushed you forward a few more steps before placing you in a chair and pulling the bag off your head.

“Morning, sunshine.” You looked up and your heart almost stopped. The faces of the two men were the only things you had been trying your hardest to avoid. Sam and Dean Winchester,

With a trembling lip and wide eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat and examined the room you were in. You were in a metal chair with a metal table placed before you, sat in the middle of a devil’s trap that practically covered the entire floor. The walls were blank and the room dark with two bookshelves open and out. 

That must be the secret entrance to this damned dungeon, you thought to yourself, already hating the situation you were in more than anything.

“Is this really necessary? You’re the freaking Winchesters. Why am I important to you?” Your annoyance gave satisfaction and possibly confusion to the brothers.

“Okay, so you know who we are. And yes, this is necessary because you’re a witch.” Sam explained, venom coursing his words as he spoke.

“No, you don’t understand. I’m a healer wi-” The door opening abruptly halted your explanation as another man walked in.

“Sam, Dean,” He eyed you suspiciously as he made his way over to the Winchesters. “Who is this?” His tone harsh as he gave you the stink eye.

“Y/N. She’s a witch. Found her through Rowena.” Dean stated and your ears perked up. They found you through Rowena? Your sister? Which means…

“She ratted me out?” Confused and futile, you accidentally spoke the words aloud, causing all heads to snap towards you.

Sam and Dean stepped forward, angry looks on their faces as your proximity became closer and closer.

But Cas walked forward, pushing his way past them and put his hands on the edge on the table, mere inches from your face, as you felt his agitation surround you. “Who are you?”

You leaned forward with a smirk on your face, confidence spreading throughout your entire body. “Right now? I’m your worst enemy."


	2. Chapter 2

The lights in the seemingly darker-than-The-Empty dungeon flicked on, a shadowy figure emerging from the darkness and roaming into the room. The suspected male form sauntered over to you, your wrists haphazardly clenching as your body tensed. Your hesitance partially became relieved as the light in your specific room - well, the room you had been in for more than 24 hours - turned on, revealing Castiel; the one who did not scare you as much as the Winchesters had. 

Your head throbbed as the memory of two nights ago flooded back into your brain, the feeling of what had happened still able to be detected, but faint, as if it was going away. But, possibly still there; you honestly didn’t know.

Cas walked forward, pushing his way past them and put his hands on the edge on the table, mere inches from your face, as you felt his agitation surround you. “Who are you?”

You leaned forward with a smirk on your face, confidence spreading throughout your entire body. “Right now? I’m your worst enemy.“

His body moved away, confusion enveloping his turmoil as he attempted to process your words. His furrowed eyebrows went away, but a tilted head replaced them. "You’re not…”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded your head with a smirk. “I’m a witch. One of the most powerful, actually.” You snickered at your lie as Cas whirled around and walked away, leaving you with the Winchesters.

Your gut wrenched as he made it to the table, standing directly before you, face contorted into anger. You knew you were shaking - from dismay - but you weren’t sure how to handle it; if you could even handle it.

At the very last second, you decided to spit out the first words that came to your mind, attempting to control the situation - or maybe just to control yourself. “Just leave, please.”

Ignoring your plea. Castiel stayed stone-faced, sorting through his options as he glanced down at you. “It’s Y/N, right?” Cas knew what your name was, he only wanted to make you feel as comfortable as possible. He felt a special connection to you from the very beginning, and he did not want you to be afraid of him. In fact, that was the last thing he wanted. Little did he know, you did not appreciate him as much as he appreciated you.

You nodded, your hair falling into your face erupted an exasperated sigh to fall past your lips considering you couldn't move it out of your eyes. You groaned and lifted your gaze, attempting to hold back your anger but you couldn’t control it. You despised him.

Castiel’s hand rose to your head, tucking the strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering behind your ear for a few seconds as your E/C eyes linked with his blues. You felt calm, and peaceful and maybe even happy as the pad of his index finger caressed the tip of your ear; a smile forming onto his face.

Seeing the change in his attitude, your gaze hardened with narrowed eyes, reaching up to his hand and pushing it away from you, vexation fuming off you as you thrust his hand back to his side. Your nostrils flared as you uttered out what seemed to be a compelled sentence - compelled on you to say. “Don’t touch me,” You hissed, knuckles turning white from clenched fists.

His brow furrowed, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. He knew that that was not your normal attitude - well he didn’t know, per se, but he presumed it couldn’t be that brutal. He slowly inched forward and attempted to lift his fingers to your forehead, but you swatted them away.

“I said, ‘don’t touch me’,” You spat, harrumphing as you leaned back in the chair. “You don’t listen, Angel.” The nickname was offensive - the way it was voiced caused misdemeanor - and a pang of hurt hit Castiel’s chest. But he let it rush past him, keeping his focus on the task at hand.

“Something happened to you,” Cas spoke softly, but seriously. He looked at you, expecting an answer but got nothing. You were staring at the ceiling as if he was antagonizing to you. Cas sighed deeply but went on. “Would you care to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Without moving your eyes from the ceiling - other than rolling them at how 'agitating’ he was - you answered with an alienated question that seemed to be more like a demand. 

Cas groaned - a rare sound to pass through his parted lips - and exhaled sharply through his nose. “Tell me what happened. Two nights ago. You seemed to be a nice person, but right now you’re being… ill-mannered,” Cas finished, eyes closing for longer than a blink as he inhaled deeply as if he was trying to contain anger or annoyance.

“I am a nice person.” You smirked but it soon went away when your face contorted into pain and struggle. You leaned forward and braced yourself on the table, even though you had been placed in a chair. You were somehow changing, and, for some reason, you hadn’t been able to control your actions or words, but you were overcoming it. Your groaning increased as the pain began to overwhelm you. 

Cas stepped forward as your groaning increased and your knuckles turned white from the death grip you had on the table, even though your wrists were in handcuffs. “Y/N?”

“Castiel? I… I don’t understand…” You slowly lifted your head, the agony ceasing and your true self finally coming back through. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know-” A finger pressing against your lips hushed you.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I think I know what this is.” He pulled his finger from your lips and smiled sheepishly. 

“Well, what is it?” You repeated the kind gesture as you spoke, apprehensive of everything yourself. You didn’t know why you had been acting the way you were. Your attitude rarely became bitter as if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but you had been acting like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed every day.

“It appears you’re under a spell. I’m not sure what it is, but it can’t be good.” Castiel walked over to you and pulled a key out of his trench coat pocket, putting it into the keyhole of each handcuff and twisting. The click of the last unlocked handcuff caused a smile to form onto your face. “I know you are innocent because your energy is pure, and I can sense your fear. It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you.” He grabbed your hand and helped you out of the chair. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. Is there anyone you know of who would cast a spell on you?”

Your heart began to beat in your ears as you thought of your sister, Rowena, who had undeniably cast a spell on you. You couldn’t tell anyone that Rowena was your sister, but you had no clue what you were going to tell Castiel. “Uhm… No.” The lie rolled off your tongue unambiguously which made you internally cringe. It was never supposed to be that easy to fib.

Castiel, of course, knew that you were lying, but he wasn’t pushing, and he never would push you to tell him the truth. It wasn’t his place to know. “Alright. Well, we will figure this out, you must stay with me in this. The spell seems to come irregularly so we should have time to research before you change back." 

You nodded and sighed wearily, in some ways glad that you weren’t being controlled by some spell at the exact moment, but you were also upset. Rowena’s spells had a habit of lasting a very long time and you hated having only been under for a couple of days.

Castiel wrapped his fingers around your wrist and led you away from the implicit, dim dungeon, pushing the shelves back together after flicking the light switch and dragging you behind him gently to abscond from the room.

Once the door was closed, Castiel brought you into the library, startling the Winchesters as they stood abruptly from their chairs and glared at Castiel with wide eyes.

“Cas!” The tone Dean spoke with boomed throughout the room, antagonism, and bewilderment emanating off him. “What are you doing?” Dean’s bellow seemed to surprise even the younger Winchester.

“Hold on a second, Dean. Cas probably has an explanation to this,” Sam turned to Cas as he spoke, “right?” Sam’s built up hope stayed within as his risen eyebrows remained in place. He waited for a response, becoming anxious and thinking that maybe Cas didn’t have an explanation.

“She’s innocent. But, she’s under a spell.” Cas went right to business leaving the brothers standing stone-faced as they processed what he notoriously stated.

“Wait,” Sam glanced at the floor, deep in thought as Cas paused like Sam had irritably requested him to do, “Isn’t she a witch?”

Castiel turned his attention towards you, ambiguous himself of what you were. If you were a witch, then you were indisputably harmless. You sighed and flicked your gaze across Sam and Dean, hardly looking at Cas because he was the one who believed you were never a threat. You only used spells to help people and it was all white magic; primarily using herbs and spices, not bones and blood. Your sister, on the other hand, was never afraid of killing to get what she wanted – not even when you were children.

Rowena was over 300 years old, you as well, but you only used a spell to remain young so that you could continue to help people. That’s all you wanted to do, and if you couldn’t, then why would you even be alive? It wasn’t your fault that your sister was a dark, black magic witch, only looking hurt people.

You shook your head, your thoughts beginning to give you a headache. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m a healer witch.” You looked from Sam to Dean, then back, as you waited for a response from someone; anyone.

“A healer witch?” Sam’s disorientation instigated you to stifle a laugh. You smiled, letting loose a soft giggle, turning your head to glance at Cas who was smiling at you.

“Figures,” You smiled and shook your head. “Healer witches are good. We practice healing by only using traditional methods, herbal remedies, and energy magick. Typically, we use moon magick, and cry a lot, especially during meditation, but we can heal anything and everything whenever we need to. We’re all normally a little bit damaged, but optimistic and we love warm colors.” You blushed tenderly when realizing that you were rambling but shrugged nonchalantly after finishing.

Sam and Dean stood with mouths gaping, and Cas was staring at the empty wall to his left seemingly blown away by your explanation.

Dean was the first to speak. “Well, I guess we should figure out what kind of spell you’re under.” He chuckled and shook his head as he patted Sam on the back and whirled around to find a lore book.

“Yeah, sure.” Sam followed behind and went to the closest bookshelf to find a lore book that was based on witches and spells.

You smiled and turned to Cas. “Us too.” You headed over to another bookshelf and began to sort through the books and their titles, Cas doing the same on a different bookshelf.

With you all looking for lore books and researching spells, you would figure out the spell and how to cure it in no time. Or so you thought, if you could make it through the process without changing back to the other version of you that nobody seemed to appreciate.

-

A few hours later, a voice broke through the silence. “I found it, but it’s not good.” Sam dragged his hand across his face as he spoke, worried about you.

“Well, what is it?” Dean asked, finding hope in the dreadful situation. Being the one raised on always believing there was a way, it was nice to have him around because he always believed there was a way out of something, no matter the situation.

“It’s a hate spell. Always directed towards one person. There’s no cure. In Y/N’s case, she will hate this one specific person more and more until…” Sam trailed off, not sure how to say it.

“Until what?” Castiel asked, facial expression stern but he was apprehensive.

“Until she kills them.” Sam finished, and you looked at the floor. You never wanted to kill anyone. That was not why you were a healer witch.

“Who is it directed towards?” Dean’s words were almost frantically passing his parted lips. He needed to know who it was, in case he could help.

“You’ll have to ask Y/N that.” Everyone’s gaze turned towards you and you glanced up, tears threatening to fall.

You breathed deeply, sniffling softly as your worst nightmare was coming true.

“Who is it, Y/N?” Sam asked, a look of concern washing across his features as he noticed the change in your attitude. From happy to practically in tears.

“Castiel.”


	3. Chapter 3

The cool, fall breeze blew past you, the only uplifting thing in that moment being the beautiful sunset liberating gorgeous hues of orange, pink, and red. You breathed in the fresh air, the scent of the Earth calming your nerves that had increased intensity as your thoughts occasionally drifted to the angel, Castiel. The one whom you had a destiny to kill. You never intended to end up where you were then; in the home – more like workplace – of someone else, told that you had been put under a spell by your own sister. Your blood.

They, of course, did not know that Rowena was your blood, and you had no tactics of enlightening them about something that would give them another reason to kill you. The fact that they were keeping you locked up, causing no harm whatsoever, irritated you, fury coursing through your veins as you leaned against a tree that had been planted across the seemingly one-way street that led to the bunker. You exhaled sharply through your nose, endeavoring to contain the rage that was emanating off you.

That familiar pain triggered a reaction to engulf you, your knees buckling as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your body fell limp onto the dirt and rocks, eyes closing and movement ceasing as you slipped into unconsciousness.

-

Shuffling feet and muffled voices echoed through your head. Glued-shut eyes fluttered open as you regained feeling in your toes, then your legs, arms, neck, and head. Your eyelids revealed your E/C eyes as they flicked across the ceiling and eventually landed on the blurry figure sitting on the bed in front of you. Your eyes narrowed as you recognized who was sitting way too close to you.

“Castiel,” You hissed through gritted teeth as you sat up and moved to the far side of the bed, not wanting to have anything to do with him. “Go… Away…” You could hardly suppress your overpowering fury as you spoke to him.

“Y/N, you have to control this. Eject this other version of yourself, please. We have to fix this.” Cas was practically begging, already knowing that it would never work because this form of you would never listen to him. He would have to catch you when you were your normal self.

“What did I just say, Cas?” You snapped, nostrils flared, and jaw clenched as you spoke to your - soon to be - victim. “Get the hell away from me!” You threw the blankets off and stormed away from him, assuming he wouldn’t leave you alone about the matter. You wondered why this was so important to him. Couldn’t he just live with you like this and move on? Apparently not.

You trudged into the kitchen and grabbed an apple off the countertop; courtesy of Sam. You sank your teeth into the red fruit and ripped a piece off the core, chewing with mouth wide open and leaning against the island. You heard footsteps approach and you whirled around, Castiel’s form appearing from around the corner. You chucked the apple at him and headed in the opposite direction.

“Y/N!” Cas called after you as you stomped down the hallway, without a care in the world, other than Castiel annoying the crap out of you. “Let me help!” His voice bounced off the walls and made its way to you. With eyes rolled and fists clenched at your sides, you turned around to face the Angel who was on the other end of the hallway.

“Why should I let you?” Your lack of even trying to conceal your aggravation upset Castiel as he strode down the hallway towards you. Your body weight had been primarily on your left foot, seeing that your right foot was turned out and your arms rested across your chest.

“Because,” Castiel paused, needing to find a way to explain it to you in a way that could possibly convince you to trust him, “I care about you. More than you know.” His gaze drifted to the floor, personally ashamed in himself for confessing something that he should have saved for later - way later. He never meant to develop certain feelings for you, but he did, and nothing could change that. Even if you loathed him more than anything, his feelings would still be there; visible to anyone and everyone.

Agony coursed through your veins, a broken scream passed through your parted lips before the room became completely silent with you laying on the floor in a fetal position; eyes trembling as they opened tremulously, a diffident inhale broke the taciturnity. You slowly sat up, Castiel on the floor before you, holding you steady with a look of pure terror of his face. Before he could say anything, you leaped into his arms and sobbed, your tears darkening certain areas on his trench coat, but he didn’t care. He only softly rubbed your back as you let go of everything you’d been holding onto.

“I feel the same way.” Your lip quivered and your voice shook as you spoke, more tears falling as you held onto his trench coat as if your life depended on it. “I’m gonna lose my hold on it.” You clenched your teeth, muscles tensing and knuckles turning white from your grip of the lapels of his coat.

“On the other version of yourself?” Castiel had been inadvertently stroking H/C locks of hair, his own nature seemingly taking control of his actions without his consent. He held your head against himself, seemingly protecting you from the darkness of the world – including the curse.

You didn’t even need to respond, and he knew; shushing you softly as his hand moved across your spine, his hold on you tightening as he appeased you. He began rocking you back and forth; whispering into your ear as your weeping subsided progressively. He told you stories about his life - his home – and about you.

“I remember the day I first saw you; years ago. I sensed your kindness, and generosity as you healed a young child of a skin disease. I saw your aura – a beautiful colorful I had never thought possible to exist. Your energy amazed me as I watched your talent grow and grow, possessing the same beauty you have now. I asked my father if I could be your guardian angel as soon as I saw you; knowing my chances of that were low since you were already fully grown. But throughout these 298 years of watching over you, I learned so much about you, and I have grown to love you. You exceeded my expectations, Y/N. You truly did.” Castiel paused and smiled as he felt your sobs shake your body. This time, he knew they were tears of joy. “I want you to know, Y/N, that it doesn’t bother me one bit that you chose to stay young. You only chose that because you wanted to continue to help people. I’m proud of you, Y/N, and I know you will get through this.” 

You pulled away and looked up at Cas’, eyebrows risen and red-rimmed eyes blinking numerous times. “Castiel. You’re my guardian angel? And you love me?” You were blown away by the information you had just been handed. Your heart pounded against your chest, feeling like it was about to burst from within your ribcage as you attempted to process what he said.

“Yes, and yes. And I know you just met me, and you don’t love me, but I will wait, Y/N. I will wait for as long as I must – for as long as you need me to. I will wait forever if that’s what you wish, but I will be here when you’re ready.” Cas breathed deeply and looked at you for a reaction, no matter what reaction you would give him.

“Castiel,” You inhaled the stale air of the bunker as you thought of what to say. You had to say something. “You know how this is going to end. I’m gonna die because the Winchesters are going to kill me. They wouldn’t risk you dying, Castiel. Besides, I’m a witch. It doesn’t matter what kind, because to them, a witch is a witch and I will always be a threat, no matter what.” You sighed and looked down. “I don’t want you to die, Castiel. Like I said before, ‘I feel the same way’ and the last thing I want to happen is for you to die. It would be best for the both of us if I just left and never came back, and you know that.”

You looked up, afraid to see what condition you had just put the angel in but you knew that you had to look at him. You had to stay strong. Your gaze landed on his eyes, his face looking like a puppy who had just been kicked. You felt tears stream down your face as you watched him, your own heart breaking as you saw the state he was in.

“N-no, Y/N. Please. I… I love you and I can’t lose you. I know this has been hard, but you have to stay with me in this. We’ll find a cure and I’ll keep you safe from Sam and Dean. They’ll understand, once they get to know you. They would never kill you, Y/N. Just, please.” Castiel exhaled shakily, reaching for your hand and entwining his fingers with yours. “Stay with me.”

Before you could answer, Sam appeared from behind the corner, a smile on his face as he rested his hand on the wall. “I found it.” His eyes were big and full of joy as he spoke, never experiencing this amount of bliss ever before. He was ecstatic, and he finally had faith that everything was going to get better, within the course of a few days.

“Found what?” Cas looked away from you, for the first time in a very long time, fingers still laced with yours but gaze on the larger Winchester, who was standing only a few feet away from them; clad in a brown and white flannel and loose, faded jeans. His rare smile beaming throughout the room, catching your gaze as you awaited his answer.

“The cure.”


	4. Chapter 4

Your feet carried you to the bunker’s library, your body heat rising ever so slightly because of the proximity between you and the angel you had been hopelessly falling in love with. You muscles screamed at you, wanting to eliminate the space between you and Castiel. They wanted you to touch him parthenogenetically, to tell him that you did, in fact, love him. But, that wasn’t realistic, and it would never be possible because an angel and a human - a witch - would never work.

Your nails dug into your palms as you scolded your feelings. You only wanted to reach out and grab his hand, to lace your fingers together and proclaim your love for the seraph, sealing it with a kiss, but that was only a dream. You hadn’t realized before, but your nails had sunk so deep into your palms, they had drawn blood, the crimson liquid slid down your fingers, maneuvering around the creases in your hand and running down the crevasses of your fingers to drip off the very edge of your fingertips.

Your gaze dropped to the drops of dark red blood littering the floor as you frantically attempted to conjure up a spell to heal the wounds yourself. After all, you were a healer witch. But, nothing came to mind. Your mind had been cluttered with images of Castiel, phrases made by Castiel, and his voice, repeating the speech he had so gracefully given minutes prior. It was the sweetest thing that probably anyone had said to you, tears brimming your eyelids once again as you recalled the care and kindness that emanated off him, the sound of his voice causing a watery smile to mold your lips.

Completely caught up in your miniature slideshow of images and sounds, you hadn’t noticed Castiel frantically calling your name from the top of the stairs as you stood still, staring at the blood on the floor with a sinister-looking smile plastered across your face. You head lifted, ears perked as you listened to your name rolling off Castiel’s tongue, seeming to be the sweetest sound you had ever heard, other than his own gravelly voice. Your heart fluttered as he made his way down the stairs, trench coat swaying slowly as his weight switched from his left foot to his right, and back again.

“Y/N? Are you alright? You seem a little… Out of it.” You assumed Castiel would stop a few feet in front of you, but he didn’t stop his movement until he was toe-to-toe with you. A small - not to mention rare - smile revealed a small section of his perfect teeth as he glimpsed at you. He leaned forward, lips barely making contact with your ear as he lifted his fingers to rest of your jaw. “I know what you were thinking about, Y/N.“ Cas slowly pulled away from you, leaving the pads of his fingers on your jawbone as his head tilted. He seemed to be admiring you as he gently held your face in his substantial hand.

A shiver traveled across your spine as his gaze locked on you, a look of adoration in his stunning, blue eyes that seemed to be sparkling in the warm light of the bunker. You subconsciously placed your right hand in the angel’s left hand and smiled softly while gazing at him through your eyelashes. You took the moment as a chance to more fully memorize his beautiful features that caused the butterflies in your stomach to feverishly brush their wings against you. His bright blue eyes hiding speckles of other colors behind the beautiful blue irises that encircled around dark pupils, his cheekbones that rarely had colors brushing across them from embarrassment or shyness, his sharp jawline that could cut, and his plump, pink lips that looked like they would fit yours perfectly.

Castiel smiled as he noticed your gaze on his lips, taking advantage of the situation by flicking his eyes to your pink lips, his tongue pushing through closed lips and wetting the surface of the delicate skin. The light reflecting off his moist lips, you bit your lip softly, your teeth gently sinking into the flesh as you imagined his - no longer dry - lips pressed to yours. Before you could make of move of your own, Castiel had leaned forward and connected his lips with yours, tilting his head slightly to the right to get a better angle. Noses squishing together, Castiel smiled into the kiss before he began to move his lips with yours in perfect synchronization.

Your suspicions had, indeed, been correct, seeing that Castiel’s lips fit yours flawlessly, and his movements seemed quintessential as if he had been practicing for years. You giggled inadvertently, deepening the kiss as you pulled your hand from his and placed it on the back of his neck, tilting your head in the opposite direction of his. You lifted yourself to the tips of your toes, seeing that you had been losing your grip on him, but Cas pushed you down, instead leaning further down towards you to assist you. You pulled away, a loud smack echoing throughout bunker and a small drizzle of saliva still connecting the two of you. You laughed, slightly embarrassed but shoved your feelings away as you pressed another kiss to his lips to break the chain of spit you both had created.

“You don’t need to wait for me to love you because I already do.” You placed the back of your hand on Castiel’s face after you spoke, gently caressing his face with your knuckle. The slight burn from his scruff caused you to smile and you rested the pad of your thumb on his cheekbone, the look he was giving you making everything so much better. These were the moments you lived for; either the look on a patient’s face after they’ve been healed from a deadly disease or the look of pure love on the face of the person you loved. Your heart ached for that certain love you never thought you would have, but there it was in all its glory, standing before you clad in a tan trench coat with the bluest eyes you had ever seen. You then knew that he was the one you had been looking for, for what seemed like forever, even if you never knew about it.

You never comprehended that Sam and Dean had been watching you the entire time before Sam cleared his throat, an extensive smile showing his pearly whites, and his eyes big with joy. He chuckled breathily and shook his head softly, happy that you two got together but mad at himself seeing that he never gave himself the chance to escape before watching something he never had the desire to see. He glanced at Dean, who was standing like a statue with mouth agape and eyes wide, probably feeling the same way Sam had about the situation.

“Uh… See ya, I guess.” Dean headed in the opposite direction, noticing that you nor Cas hadn’t even attempted to look their way. Both you and Cas were lost in each other’s eyes looking so in love it seemed absolutely disgusting to Dean. But who knows? Maybe it was just him. He kept his eyes glued to the floor as he walked past them, heading in the direction of his room to get away from the sap he had just witnessed. But he had to admit that it was actually super sweet how you and Cas acted; even if it was totally Shakespeare worthy.

Sam bid the same farewell as he took advantage of Dean’s escape to make an escape of his own. It’s not like either of you were paying attention; eyes still locked on each other but hands groping each other in an agamic way, only wanted to make sure everything was real and you both weren’t dreaming or hallucinating. But it was, indeed, real, and you didn’t care about the cure at that moment whatsoever. You only cared that he was there, not running away from you because you kissed him or some other horrific way to end a friendship. He was there, a smile on his face as he gently rubbed his thumb across your hipbone.

You slowly lifted yourself on the tips of your toes and wrapped your noodle-like arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace to ensure that he was there and that this wasn’t some sick dream Rowena had shoved into your mind to get back at you for doing nothing wrong. Your heart fluttered when you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist, and your stomach did somersaults when he buried his face into your neck; inhaling your scent and memorizing it in case he felt in need of you, he could recall your wonderful, sweet scent.

A worried sigh passed through your parted lips, shaky and uneven as you breathed deeply, still in the angel’s arms. Your angel’s arms. You swallowed the nervous, growing lump in your throat and squeezed him harder, finding peace - especially love - in his arms. He began gently rubbing your back as he placed a sweet, chaste kiss on your neck where his face had been pressed. He, somehow, pulled you closer, finding a way to get your form closer to him even though you thought you were as near as you could be. He certainly proved you wrong, seeing that he had managed to get you even closer to him. But, of course, you didn’t mind. In fact, you were happier being closer to the one you had grown to love in a short period of time.

“What is it, love?” He was the first to break the seemingly never-ending but comfortable silence, stroking his fingers delicately through strands of your hair as he spoke. His voice - deep and gravely - calmed you immensely as his fingers gently caressed your scalp as he played with your hair. The nickname caused ‘explosive butterflies’ - what you called it considering you had no clue how to explain the feeling - to overwhelm your stomach and you smiled widely, the foreign feeling of a different kind of joy providing soreness to your face with how wide you were smiling.

The feeling didn’t last forever, the sinking feeling in your stomach returning to you as your smile was replaced with a faint frown and worry lines creasing your forehead. “I just… I’m scared.” You exhaled sharply through your nose, tears clouding your vision again for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day. You were supposed to be strong and able to handle the shit that happened to you, but it was in your title. ‘Cries a lot.’ Sometimes you wished you were a black magic witch just so that you wouldn’t be such a baby over doltish things.

Castiel pulled away from you and placed his hands on your shoulders as he glanced down at you, but he didn’t look worried at all. You couldn’t quite place your finger on the emotion he was expressing, but you knew it was good. It would definitely improve your mood. “Y/N, I told you we would figure this out. Look around, Y/N. We figured it out and we are going to fix this. Why are you scared, sweetheart?” You silently cursed your tears as they fell, but Cas only smiled and wiped them away with his thumbs.

“What if the cure is something bad? Or something we can’t do? Or-” Cas pressed his lips to yours to quiet you, a smile on his face as your lips connected. His hand lifted to your jawbone as he finished, pulling away with a soft ‘smooch’ as he rested his forehead against yours before speaking.

“No ‘what ifs’, love. Positivity, only. Besides, the spell Rowena used wasn’t high-level magic which means-” You interrupted his sentence to get back at him with a small smile on your face.

“The cure won’t be bad.” You giggled softly at his expression and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Castiel.” You ran off in the other direction to retrieve the brothers, but left your fingers on Castiel’s for as long as you could before you were no longer touching him.

He sighed as he watched you sprint away, but a smile made its way onto his face as your voice echoed through his head, seemingly sending him a message through prayer. I love you! Your voice was cheerful and he could picture the gorgeous smile on your face as you spoke. He chuckled softly and shook his head at your playfulness before replying.

“I love you too!” Purposely speaking aloud you turned around and vigorously threw your arms in the air to tease him before blowing him a kiss and turning around. It was definitely going to be an interesting night, if you two continued with your encounters.


	5. Chapter 5

“Sam!” You called through the bunker’s halls, nerves getting to you as you neared Sam’s room. You softly placed two knocks on his door and it opened in a matter of seconds, a smiling Sam, towering over you as you stood before him. “Well, hello there!” You exclaimed, sarcasm dripping from your words. Your eyes were wide as you giggled softly at how rough he had opened his door.

He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You shook your head and playfully rolled your eyes before continuing. “So, the cure?”

Sam nodded and squeezed past you, closing the door and making his way to the library after giving Dean’s door a quick knock to let him know what they were doing.

You spotted Cas and smiled, offering a small wave as you brushed past him to get to the library, anxious to know about the cure. You carefully eyed the books that were sprawled across the table, opened and turned to random pages, each one turned to a page about witchcraft and spells. You skimmed the words on the nearest book and inhaled deeply, your heartbeat quickening as you read about a spell that was similar to yours.

“So, Y/N, the cure to the spell you’re under is uh… well… different I guess.” Sam’s eyes flicked back and forth across the page as he reread the text, for the fifth time that day.

“That’s a word for it,” Dean said as he entered the room, finally catching up to you and Sam after Sam had knocked on his door to let him know. Apparently, Dean didn’t understand why someone was knocking on his door, seeing that he had come out five minutes later. He sat across from Sam and began flipping through the pages of the book that was placed in front of him.

You felt someone press their stomach to your back and you smiled, the familiar scent of vanilla and honey overwhelming you in the best way. You leaned into Castiel as his arm wrapped around your waist.

“You smell wonderful,” Cas spoke softly as he placed his hand on your hip bone, gently caressing the sharp curve of it with the soft pads of his fingers.

“I was thinking the same thing about you.” You nuzzled into his touch, a warm feeling emanating inside your chest as you felt his arms pull you closer to him.

“Alright, alright. Stop it with the puppy love,” Dean teased but you only pushed yourself closer to the angel. Dean chuckled softly and shook his head.

“Here it is.” Sam pointed towards a small paragraph in the book he had been reading while Dean was teasing you, and looked at you solemnly. Your heart seemingly dropped into your stomach, your body slightly slumping against Cas as you awaited the now feared cure. “It doesn’t say a lot, but from what I can see, it’s not good. This spell was created so that nobody would ever attempt it because of how stupid the cure is. It was made as a joke because nobody ever thought someone would cast this spell on someone else. It was rarely cast on anyone, actually, but we’re different, I guess.”

“What is it?” Your heart thumped loudly against your chest you were sure everyone in the room could hear it, maybe even see it moving your shirt ever so faintly.

Sam exhaled slowly, his gaze once again settling on the small print on the yellowed page of the lore book. “Well, first, you have to ‘live your life bare’ for three days, and then-”

You interrupted Sam, “Wait, one thing at a time. What does that mean?”

“By the looks of it, naked.” Sam looked up at you and your eyes widened and your face turned red.

“W-what? Why?”

“I guess it’s a symbol of cleanliness. It’s a way of cleansing yourself of the spell.” Sam glanced at the lore book again before fixing his gaze on your flustered form.

“O-Okay. I-I can do t-that.” You looked at Cas, expecting to see a beat-red angel, but instead received a look of pure love and reassurance as he held you close to him. “W-what’s next?”

“The last thing you need to do is to put all of your trust in someone because this is going to be rough.” Sam groaned and looked at you as you signaled for him to continue. “You have to be in contact with an angel and go to heaven, and then… fall from heaven and the person you trust - they’re supposed to catch you… somehow.”

“Oh my fucking god.” You threw your filter out the window as you thought about literally falling from heaven. “Do I have to be naked for that, too?”

“No, but they have to be done separately. So, on the fourth day, you’re going to heaven. But, you will never change into the hateful form of yourself through the entire process, so that’s a plus.” Sam gave you a heartening smile as he stood from the table he was sitting at.

“I told ya, it’s definitely different, isn’t it?” Dean joined in, feeling sorry for you. This had to be the worst thing you had to do. You barely knew the three of them, except for Castiel, and you would have to be stark naked in front of them, and then have to fall from the sky.

You turned around fully to face Castiel, burying your face in his chest as you gripped onto the lapels of his trench coat with all your might. Cas wrapped his arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“It’s okay, I can do this,” You said, your voice muffled from your face being shoved into Castiel’s chest.

“There we go.” Dean smiled, hearing your muffled self-assurance with a grin on his face.

“It’d be best if we started tomorrow, in case you turn.” Sam smiled sympathetically and patted your back as he ambled past, leaving you in Cas’ arms as Dean followed Sam out.

“You can do this, love.” Cas fondled with strands of your hair as he spoke, running his fingers gently through your H/C locks.

Your head dipped as you breathed deeply to calm your nerves. “Yeah, I can do this.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Wait, Sam.” Castiel reread the text one more time, eyes flicking across the words on the page with a furrowed brow as he endeavored to interpret what it meant. His lips moved imperceptibly as he wracked his brain for a simpler way to state the description. “This is Enochian, but I’m not sure what the author was trying to say.” He breathed deeply through his nostrils as he studied the symbols.

“Well, just start with what it says. Then, we can figure out what it means.” Sam’s gaze drifted to the intricate figures that were somehow printed on the yellowing page of the lore book, wishing he had done more studying on the language than anything else.

Castiel’s lips parted as he shifted his weight to his right foot, reading through the statement again before sighing deeply. “Nevermind. I know what it means.” He shot you a languishing look before fixing his gaze on the ripping pages of the book, closing it softly after folding the corner of the page to save Sam’s spot.

“What does it say?” Sam stood from the chair that hardly held him, eye-level with the angel as he awaited an answer from the seemingly-clueless seraph.

“The cure is only for people who are not related to the spell caster.” Cas ran his fingers along the spine of the book as his gaze slowly dropped to where his fingers rested before finding Sam’s multi-colored eyes once again.

“That doesn’t apply to Y/N, though, right?” Sam paused as his eyes flicked over to a deeply-concentrated you. “She’s not related to Rowena.”

“You’ll have to ask her that.” Upon seeing the perplexed look on Sam’s face, Cas grunted quietly before continuing. He had hoped that Sam would understand him without him having to say any more. “Remember when we first met Y/N, and you and Dean said that you had found her through Rowena?” Sam nodded slowly, still bewildered but, regardless, following along. “And she said that Rowena, as she put it, ‘ratted her out’?”

Sam looked away and Cas could practically see the gears turning inside Sam’s head. “Huh.” Sam took a glimpse at Cas before fully making eye-contact again. “Y/N knows Rowena.”

“Yes. I don’t know if they are related, but Y/N is 298 years old, and Rowena is more than 300 years old.” Castiel’s eyebrows rose as he watched realization smack Sam in the face, and a lightbulb turn on in his head.

“Well, then you ask her. You’re dating her, right? She’ll listen to you.” Sam reasoned as he eyed you reading a lore book in the corner of the room, paying no attention to him or Cas whatsoever. “Alright.”

-

“Yes. I’m sorry, Cas. I didn’t think it was important that I’m Rowena’s fucking sister.” You massaged your temples with the tips of your fingers as you sat on your bed beside Castiel, a sickening feeling overwhelming you as you thought about your sister. She was ruthless, killing anyone who got in her way, but she was your sister and you loved her. You wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

“It’s okay, Y/N. This is good.” Cas gently placed his hand on your knee, causing you to look into his brilliant cerulean eyes. They seemed to be dragging you under, forcing you to believe him. But, you weren’t certain if you should.

“How?” Your voice broke as you articulated, quietly muttering an apology for sounding sour before jumping right back into your inquiry. “Cas, I love her. That’s not good, but she’s my sister.” You sighed and glanced away, tears brimming your eyelids before you continued. “I miss her.”

“I know, love. But, because you’re related to the spell caster, the cure won’t work. You won’t have to go through more fear and discomfort.” He raised his hand to rest the pads of his index and middle fingers along your jawbone, tenderly stroking your cheekbone with his thumb as your E/C irises lifted to meet his.

“What? Well, then how will we cure it? It hasn’t exactly been the easiest spell I’ve been under.” You bit the inside of your lip, holding the delicate flesh between your teeth as you waited for an enigmatic reaction to bubble up and unveil itself through his filter, but you received the exact opposite. He smiled and pressed a tender kiss to your hairline before taking your hands and providing them a reassuring squeeze.

“We’re going to bring your sister here and somehow convince her to rid you of the spell. She knows us as we know her. It won’t be challenging to persuade her, believe me.” He laced his fingers through yours and helped you stand from your seated position on the bed, bringing you to the library to converse with Sam and Dean.

-

“So, you’re her sister, and you’re both 300 years old?” Dean restated in a simplistic manner as he eyed the redhead suspiciously, eyebrows raised and green irises awaiting a response.

“298,” You corrected, offering a guilty smile as he glanced at you for a millisecond before fixing his gaze on the seemingly older than the world black magic witch. “She’s… Well, somewhere in the 300’s.” You chuckled softly as she flashed you a that-wasn’t-needed look.

“What is it that you boys need again?” Rowena exhaled softly with rolled eyes and pursed her burgundy-painted lips in a thin line, raising her eyebrows nonchalantly. Her bag hung limply from her forearm as she shifted her weight slightly, her heels clicking as she adjusted her body weight.

“Well, since you’re related, the cure won’t work and I think at this point you should be satisfied with what you caused.” Sam’s slightly agitated tone caused a smirk to mold your lips as you took a glimpse at your sister.

“Indeed. But, why should I help you?” You let out an inadvertent scoff, giving Rowena the nastiest look you could muster up before dramatically throwing your arms up. Typical sibling behavior.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because we’re related and I’ve been suffering for way too long!” You groaned gruffly before continuing with an irritated tone. “Do you know how awful it is being under a spell that causes you to hate the one you love? Oh, wait. You don’t, because your relationships never last longer than a week,” You spat, your sour tone causing the brothers and your angel to offer bewildered looks.

“Oh, darlin’, I didn’t realize you fell in love with him.” Rowena’s thick accent with an apologetic tone caused you to offer a bewildered look, much like the three others had. “I only thought it would help you to realize how much you hurt me.” She looked away and you could tell there were tears in her eyes.

Realizing what she meant, you spoke softly, “Ro… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You shuffled over to her and placed your hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to take him from you. I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Didn’t like him? I loved Henry!” Her limbs began to shake as she held in her sobs, her lip quivering and she glanced back toward you. “Well, it’s in the past. And he’s found another.”

You felt a warm tear spill from your eyelid as you wrapped your arms around her small form, apologizing repeatedly as you hugged. Once you pulled away and smiled softly. “I missed you. Will you help us? PLease? I have strong feelings for Castiel, much like you had for Henry. Ro, this could bring us closer together.”

She nodded and folded her hands together as she gave you a solemn glance, lips still pursed as she inhaled through her nose. “Let’s get to it, then.”

-

After a few words of Latin and Enochian, and your sister handing you a glass of yellow, nasty-looking liquid that was as thick as a shake or a slightly frozen smoothie, you were prepared to be rid of the spell. Your mind began to wander as you waited for Rowena to give you the signal when you realized something.

“Hey, Ro?” She looked up from the bowl she had put the ingredients in with eyebrows risen. “Why haven’t I changed to my hateful self in a while?” You set the glass onto the table closest to you before fixing your gaze on the other witch.

“I don’t know. Probably because the space in between each time you change is irregular. You could change in a whopping two weeks or a wee two minutes.” She poured a yellow powder into the bowl and began mashing the ingredients together.

You nodded and caught a glimpse of the glass of yellow liquid, a look of disgust on your face as you scowled at it. “I’m not drinking that, am I?” The putrid smell of the fluid was enough for you to stay as far away from it as possible.

“Indeed, you are. As soon as I throw the match in and the cloud of smoke is in the air, you are going to drink that glass of the potion.” Rowena stated and you groaned, the rancid drink making you gag, and you weren’t even near it. “Are you ready?”

You sighed and nodded, making your way over to the glass and picking it up with your frail fingers. She chanted more Latin with some Enochian was thrown into the mix somewhere, before lighting the match and tossing it into the ancient-engraved bowl, a yellow cloud of smoke puffing up and beginning to swirl throughout the room. You pinched your nose with your index finger and thumb before gulping down the entire glass of the repugnant, clumpy potion. You pulled the glass away from your lips and swallowed, opening your mouth with a choked 'ugh’. You placed the glass cup on the table and gagged with a 'bleck’.

“That’s fucking nasty.” You moved your tongue around inside your mouth in an attempt to get rid of the sickening taste but gave up upon the cognizance that it would presumably never go away.

You felt a presence behind you and a warm hand on your shoulder as you turned around to find Cas holding a glass of your favorite drink, offering it to you with a contrite look. You took the glass appreciatively and smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, sweetie.” You practically chugged the liquid, which tasted like heaven compared to the potion, with joy.

“How are you feeling?” He took the glass from you once you finished and offered a reassuring smile. On the inside, his nerves were going nuts as he waited for you to tell him how you felt. He would never tell anyone, but some of the comments you had said while under the spell actually had an impact on him, and it wasn’t good.

“Good, actually.” You smiled but saw the look on his face, reading right through his encouraging smile. Something was wrong. “Honey? Are you okay?” You placed the back of your hand on his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with your knuckle as you studied his expression. He was upset.

His stomach sank and his shoulders slumped as he grabbed your hand and gently pulled it from his face. “It’s nothing.” He forced a smiled as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckle before bringing his other hand up to fully hold your hand in both of his.

“Cas,” You put your other hand over his as you spoke, seeing right through his lies but knowing where your boundaries laid. “You can tell me, you know that.” You squeezed his hand and offered a sweet smile, but he declined.

“It’s not important.” He pulled his hands away and placed his right hand on the back of your head, kissing your forehead tenderly before pulling away. “The only thing that matters is that you’re okay.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke, but your heart warmed nevertheless and you smiled, nodding your head to let him know that you would wait forever for him to tell you whatever it was that was bothering him.

“I’m okay.” You assured in a sweet tone earning a smile from the angel and a nod.

“Yes, you are.” He gave you a quick peck on the lips before walking down the steps and around the corner to head to his room, leaving you with your sister and the seemingly puzzled Winchesters.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last part of this series! I hope you enjoyed it!

Castiel closed your bedroom door, heaving a sigh as he paced your room in stress and worry. That was always his go-to place when he was uptight about anything. His situation was stressful as it always was, and he constantly found himself in your room even though he had one of his own. Sometimes you were there and sometimes you weren’t, but it didn’t matter either way because it was yours and you had told him that he could go in there whenever he fancied to. He raked his hand through his hair, spiking it up more than it already was and making it look more and more like sex hair. He exhaled sharply through his nose, thinking about his tense muscles and the exact reason they were tense.

Three soft knocks broke through the pregnant silence, and the ghost of a smile made its way onto Castiel’s face because he knew it was you. But as soon as it had appeared, it vanished as he spoke softly to assure you that he could, indeed, hear your knocking. “It’s your room, Y/N. There is no need for knocking.” He almost laughed at your puerility. Almost. He heard you laugh from the other side of the door before the knob turned and you appeared from behind the heavy door.

“Right.” You shook your head, your stupidity temporarily killing you before closing the door behind you. You glanced up at the angel and offered a genuine smile before noticing his blank expression and then the state he was in. “Babe? What is it?” You took and step forward and gently rested your hand on his shoulder. His eyes softened and he shook his head, almost as if he was ashamed of something. “It’s okay. You can tell me.” Again, he shook his head and your brow furrowed. He was acting strangely. “Is this related to earlier?” He shifted his gaze to his feet and nodded. He was definitely ashamed of something. “Sweetie…” Your voice trailed off as your heart ached for him. You wanted to help - more than anything - but you didn’t know what was wrong. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” You lifted your hand from his shoulder to rest your knuckle against his cheek that was stained with fresh tears. “Why are you crying?”

He sighed and slowly lifted his gaze to your E/C irises. His facial expression was soft but full of emotion. “I… I’m sorry.” His voice broke softly as he replaced his gaze on your shoes. The world seemed to darken around him as he locked himself in his thoughts. He was hurting, and he didn’t want to tell you why because he was ashamed. Ashamed of being ashamed if you would.

You furrowed your brow, that certain ping going off in your chest as you noticed the look of pure ache in his eyes. You felt as if an arrow had struck your chest as you looked at your angel. “For what?”

“I’m… I’m ashamed.”

“Of what?” You hadn’t noticed before, but he had let go of your hands which broke your heart for a second but you shoved the feeling down. You took his hands once more, gaining his attention and offered the sweetest smile you could muster up. He seemed to brighten up from the gesture which warmed your heart as you gave his hands a reassuring squeeze.

“Please, just… Don’t be angry.” He begged softly and you frowned but nodded slowly. Whatever it was, it couldn’t make you too angry. Besides, you could never stay angry at the cutest angel in all of the garrisons. “Some of the things you said to me while you were under the spell were unkind and they shouldn’t have affected me but…” He trailed off and looked away.

“It did.” You finished for him breathily, glancing away with a swirling stomach. “I… I hurt you. I scarred you.” Tears began to cloud your vision as you glanced up with a quivering lip. “I’m so sorry, Castiel. I… I didn’t realize. If I could have, I would have crawled and torn my way through that awful version of myself and protected you from the hurtful words. But I couldn’t.”

“Y/N. Don’t do this to yourself. I shouldn’t have been so weak.”

He looked away and exhaled deeply.

“Castiel!” Your sternness causing Castiel to snap his head towards you with wide eyes. He had never heard you raise your voice like that before. “Angel of the Lord, warrior of God, powerful seraphim, don’t EVER say that about yourself. Ever! You are not weak. You have never been weak! You are the strongest person - well, angel - I have ever met. So please, don’t talk about yourself like that. Please.”

He nodded and apologized quietly, earning him a smile and a nod.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Just, please don’t say awful things about yourself. And it’s over now so you have nothing to worry about.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek with a small smile. “And I’ll always be here to protect you.”

“I think it should be the other way around.”

“Nope.” You laughed softly and glanced up at him with a smile. “I’ll be your guardian angel.” He furrowed his brow before smiling and leaning down to press a kiss to your nose. “Then I’ll be your human.” You giggled and embraced his kiss. Who knew the bond between the two of you would escalate into what it was in that moment? You both were each other’s rocks, and you were to become one of heaven’s most treasured pairs. It would be only a matter of time, and you two would be guardians of each other and the rest of the world.


End file.
